


The Life and Death of Narcissa Malfoy

by ColorfulStabwound



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childbirth, Death Eaters, F/M, Hogwarts, M/M, Malfoy Manor, Marriage, POV First Person, Second Wizarding War, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, first wizarding war, life and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:23:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narcissa Malfoy cronicles her life and death. It's not always pretty and it's definitely not always easy, but there is one thing that Narcissa has always strived for.</p><p>Love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Life and Death of Narcissa Malfoy

**Author's Note:**

> This was sort of born out of chance after the part "Skulls" in The Death of Draco Malfoy series. Narcissa is a complex character with more than her share of skeletons in her closet.
> 
> Endless love and adoration to Unkissed who is my writing partner, friend, cohort, and muse.
> 
> Grab a tissue! ;)

My earliest memories are those in which I am ensconced in love and luxury. Even from a very early age, I felt loved, which perhaps might sound a little strange considering my upbringing, but I will never deny that it was there.

 

I remember sitting at my mother’s vanity table as a small child while she brushed my hair, each stroke of that silver-handled brush against my scalp grooming me into the refined lady that I would one day become. She was always making comments about how I would one day make a fine pureblood wife, and every day I would spend hours day dreaming about the faceless husband that was looming somewhere in my distant future.

 

As a child my days were filled with lessons on etiquette and various instructions regarding literature and fine arts. My mother never missed an opportunity to teach me something new; _a proper wife will know what is needed of her without being told._ It was my job, even as a young girl, to nurture my abilities on pleasing others while remaining the picture of perfection that I was destined to be. Of course, my older sisters Andromeda and Bellatrix were also expected to marry respectfully and make our family proud, but I knew, even then, that I was the brightest of the three of us.

 

My afternoons were often spent reading the works of French poets, curled up in my father’s oversized armchair by the fireplace. Whenever my mother would catch me she would scold me, and demand that I retake my seat because a _lady_ never curled up on anything for _any_ reason.

 

My memories of my parents are not awful or riddled with regret as people often assume. My family name was Black, but my childhood was anything but. Sitting on my father’s lap and sharing _choux à la crème_ or playing _Huckle Buckle Beanstalk_ with Meda and Bella, are perhaps some of my fondest memories of growing up. My family, like most, had their problems, but we were happy; and above all, I felt extremely loved and cared for.

 

Of my two elder sisters, it was Bella who I formed the strongest bond with growing up. It was she who held my hand when we walked down the streets of Diagon Alley, and it was also she who was never afraid to put me before herself. Bella was my fierce protector, my warrior sister, and I loved her more than anything or anyone I had ever known.  Sometimes I would crawl into her bed at night and she would wrap her arms around me and kiss the top of my head. _Don’t you ever worry, Cissy. I’ll always be here to protect you._ –And I always believed her because I could never imagine my life without her in it.

 

At school, it was Bella who walked beside me in the hallways, glaring dangerously at anyone who dared look at me with anything other than the utmost respect. We were like day and night; where I was all refinement and sunlit features, Bella was rough around the edges with darkened coloring to match. I adored her to the point of worship, not only because she cared for me, but also because she represented everything I would never be. She was loyal and unafraid, and although there would come a time when I would have no choice but to question her fierce demeanor, growing up, Bella was my entire world.

 

Don’t get me wrong, Meda played an important part in my life as well, and it would take me years and years to rectify the cruelty I bestowed upon her as a young girl. Sometimes I wonder if being in the middle affected Andromeda more than any of us could have known. I was the shining star of the family, stuck out in front like a glamorous tree topper for any and all to covet and envy. Bella was my glaring opposite but she still represented pride in the eyes of our parents. She took their lessons to heart in ways that I would never be able to, and it was her fierceness that would lead her down the destructive path to her untimely demise. So I have to wonder where that left Meda. Forgotten in the middle, and often overlooked.  Really, it was no wonder that she ran away with a muggle, although at the time I was utterly heartbroken by her betrayal and I cried for weeks after she’d gone. 

 

Our house was never the same after Meda left. My mother burned her off the family tapestry while we watched and I shrank against Bella with tears in my eyes, biting back a shriek as she shook me firmly and made me promise to never ever allow myself to waver from who I was.

 

I was fifteen years old when Lucius Malfoy had finally made it past Bella’s trials and managed to catch my attention. Lucius was a pureblood beauty with a stunning pedigree and although my parents were practically beside themselves with delight, Bella still doubted that he was good enough for me.

 

_I don’t like the way he looks at you, Cissy._

She would say this while standing at my side, just slightly in front of me like a living shield, arms crossed and inky black eyes narrowed suspiciously.  Her protective nature always made me smile, and I would wrap my arms around her waist and lay my head on her shoulder and quietly remind her that no one ever _would_ be good enough in her eyes.

 

By the time I completed my time at Hogwarts I was spoken for, and at the tender age of nineteen, Lucius took my hand in marriage and I became Narcissa Malfoy. I will always remember the different expressions worn by the faces of my family at my wedding. My father stood tall and proud and when I looked at him, the corners of his mouth twitched just enough that I could not help but shed a discreet tear. My mother wept silently during the ceremony because she was filled with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment, but I studied her long enough over the years to see the underlying fear that was there also. I had been her greatest work of art and now I was truly gone. I think it hit her the hardest. Bella stood at my side during the ceremony and when Lucius lifted my veil, her lip curled into a snarl that made me laugh fondly.

 

My life at Malfoy manor began the moment I shed my family name and I will not mince words here; it was difficult to navigate in the beginning. Lucius’ father, Abraxas still resided in the house, and although he was a pleasant man with many stories about his illustrious life, I never _truly_ felt that it was my house until he was gone.

 

Of course, I did an excellent job of maintaining and cataloging the history and secrets of the old house; it was my duty, after all and I was nothing if not a quick study and a perfectionist by nature.

 

My life with Lucius in those early years was filled with excess and luxury like I had never known. Of course I had come from my own style of privilege, but the Malfoy’s were on another level entirely. Lucius was the perfect husband and as time passed, my love for him only grew; to the point that it blacked out everything else.

 

I will not say that I was unaware of what he was doing at the time, because I am anything but naïve. Lucius was a fierce believer in the ideals of blood purity and it was an easy choice for him to step into service as a Death Eater. I stood by as not only my husband, but also my sister, pledged their obedience to The Dark Lord. I had been raised on these beliefs, so they were also my own. Of course, I was never officially welcomed into the fold; be it my husbands desire to keep his family and his _work_ separate, or perhaps even my sister’s inability to place me in the direct line of possible harm. I never took that filthy mark upon my skin, but I was as much an accomplice as any of them.

 

By the time I discovered I was pregnant the First Wizarding War had been raging for years, and I was more often than not, left alone in the manor while my husband and my family carried out various orders that I had very little actual knowledge about.

 

The day that my son was born was the greatest achievement of my entire life; far surpassing any coveted moment that I had captured for myself up until that point. It was in these first few minutes of his life that I made a promise to him, quietly whispered against the top of his newborn head as I held him against my chest.

 

_I will protect you until my last breaths._

Draco was his name; after the fierce Dragon constellation who's name I was certain he would one day live up to. Never had I been more in love with anyone or anything in my entire life. I kept him guarded within the walls of the manor for the first year of his life, terrified of the war that waged on beyond the safety of our home. I knew all to well what became of innocents in our world, and I could not bear the thought of anything happening to my child.

  
When the war ended I will tell you that I was relieved. I had lived so many years of my life worrying about the welfare and safety of my family, and I was secretly pleased that my son would not be raised in such an environment. The Death Eater trials were an obscene affair in our world and I tried my best to avoid them, aside from those of my closest family.  It was easier than I would have expected for Lucius to escape imprisonment, and although I was happy to have our family intact, I was saddened when Bella and her husband were convicted and sentenced to Azkaban.  I will never forget the look in her eyes as she watched me from that wooden chair in the center of the courtroom or the way she smiled at me as they drug her away. My protector was ripped away from me and carted off to rot in a cell somewhere I would never see her, and it broke my heart into a million pieces.

 

Life with Draco was never a dull moment, and I coveted every second of it because I never wished for him to want or lack for a single thing. Lucius used to say I coddled him too much, but I took the comments in stride; my boy would know love just as I did, and I would do my best to bring up a son that the entire world could be proud of.

 

The years seemed to slip between my fingertips and before I knew it, Draco was six years old. Lucius was holding down a respectable job at the Ministry by that point and on the outside we appeared to be the picture perfect pureblood family. My husband was nothing if not sly and cunning and over time, he learned to keep his ideals and beliefs well guarded. His _meetings_ with various men over the years appeared innocuous enough, even though I knew these men were former followers. Our beliefs were instilled into our son by more than just the blood that ran in his veins, and although I would never have believed it at the time, I was destroying my own child without even realizing it.

 

He was a happy child who was gifted everything his heart desired. I looked on with motherly pride as he grew and gainfully ignored his entitlement because in my eyes, he deserved the entire world. Draco didn’t exactly play well with others, but I chalked it up to boyish exuberance and it wasn’t until Theodore Nott began accompanying his father to the manor for meetings with Lucius, did I start to notice the change in him. 

 

At first it was much like every other pureblooded play date I had ever planned for him, but over time I watched as the mutual loathing slowly started to transform from envy, tolerance, respect, and even love. Draco was ten years old when Abraxas passed, and I still remember watching the way he leaned against the Nott boy at the funeral and feeling the terrifying sense of destiny looming over my head. I saw every single thing that went on in my house, and as much as I tried to ignore the obvious changes in my son, there came a point when I no longer could.

 

Draco was fourteen years old the first time I truly betrayed him; only a year younger than I myself was when I met his father. He was still _so_ young, and had _so_ much life to live. There was another war brewing; I could feel it in my bones and it terrified me because I knew that I could not shield him like I had done without fail, his entire life. I was losing him, and I made hard decisions that would ultimately affect all of our lives.

 

It hadn’t taken very much to turn Lucius onto the idea that Draco needed a stronger hand. He had been gently scolding me for years about how soft I had made him with my over abundance of nurturing and love, and from that moment on; everything changed. It happened the day Draco had returned from an overnight at the Nott estate and I stood just outside the door of Lucius’ study and listened to the entire thing. Of course a large part of me knew that what I had done was wrong, but I justified my actions by telling myself that I knew what was best for my son. He was far too young to lead his own life so astray.

 

I had never been so wrong in my life.

 

I watched him around the house for days after his talk with his father, and although he did his best to mold himself into the son that his father demanded him to be, I could see the cracks in him; even then.  A week later Theodore Nott returned to the manor with his father and I knew that it couldn’t possibly end well. I watched them from the window of one of the countless guest rooms upstairs and I felt like I was witnessing something I never should have.

 

When it was all said and done Draco had resigned himself to his fate and Theodore had left the Manor in tears, never to return; at least not for many years down the road. I wish I could say something that might excuse my behavior and the role I played in that time in my son’s life, but I cannot. I was simply a mother who was blinded by her fierce need to protect her child, at all costs.

 

My life was about to change drastically yet again, and before I could properly box up my feelings about what I had done, there was another war looming over all of our heads. Lucius was imprisoned after a botched break-in at the ministry and now all eyes were on my family.

 

The day my sister walked back into my life I was filled with both a fear and relief.  Her time in Azkaban had done little for her sanity and it didn’t take me long at all to realize she was hardly the Bella that I had worshiped as a child. With my husband incarcerated, it was up to Draco to take his place, and I will never forget the dread that filled me, or how I cried when he was taken away from me. Bella had her arms around me and easily held me in place; she had always been stronger than I had. _You should be proud, Cissy. This is a true honor for Draco, hold your head high!_ Her words were like cold cubes of ice on my spine and it took every ounce of self-control that I possessed not to struggle against her. I wasn’t stupid, I knew that any fight I put up would be considered a direct act of disloyalty and so I let him go and effectively betrayed him for a second time. 

 

Draco was branded along with the rest of the Death Eaters and I felt sick as I stood there, bound by my sister and made to watch. I cannot describe what it feels like to witness your own flesh and blood in so much visible pain. There are no words to properly convey how much it hurt me, even though it was _him_ that was thrashing with the lingering effects of a _crucio._   Bella’s pleased cackle in my ear turned my stomach, and I stood rigid and silent as I watched him and my heart broke in ways that it would not be able to recover from.

 

By the time I had decided to take preventative measures to assure Draco’s continued existence, I knew that The Dark Lord fully intended to see him fail the impossible task set for him. It was a chilly winter evening when I crept into the room Bella was occupying and climbed into her bed like we were children all over again. She looked so much older now; her hair had streaks of white and her features were sunken and ghostly. I pleaded with the parts of her that I hoped still existed because I needed her more than ever. Of course she had little desire to disobey the Lord she had sworn her life to, but I had something that he did not. Long aged promises between two sisters beneath a blanket of darkness, much like the one we shared that night.

 

When she accompanied me to Severus Snape’s home, she was on edge and quietly berated my choices the entire way. Bella didn’t trust Severus like I did, and ironically enough, her suspicion about him would prove to be correct in time.

 

Unbreakable vows were just that, unbreakable. I had to ensure that my son would not fail, one way or another, and so I accepted Severus’ offer because I could not bear the thought of burying a child.

 

By the time Albus Dumbledore fell, my son hardly resembled the boy that I had raised. No longer was he the carefree child that I loved with every element I possessed; he was a scared and broken little boy that I could no longer protect. Lucius had been freed from prison and we were once again all together, although we were hardly in a position to be anything but fearful for our lives.  Our home became a catchall for The Dark Lord and his followers, and the unspeakable acts that took place within its walls over the next year would forever taint the house.

 

The Battle Of Hogwarts is something I will never forget, no matter how hard I try. The amassed dead and sheer devastation left no one untouched, least of all my family. It was a defiant act of a desperate mother that caused me to lie boldly to Voldemort, and when it was all said and done, and the dust had settled, I never regretted my decision.  Witnessing the murder of my sister is a burden I have to live with, and although I know that the woman who fell at The Dark Lord’s side was merely a shell of the Bella I grew up with, it was and is a devastating loss to my life.

 

Once again I sat through Death Eater trials, this time my son was stuck in the center of it all. As a mother, you always want to do right by your children, but witnessing Draco stand trial was like a nightmare I could not wake from. It changed us both and forever altered our lives; I know that now.

 

Life at the Manor was far from normal, and even when Lucius finally returned home, we were still a broken family. His time in Azkaban has deteriorated his mind and he would never be the staunch head of the Malfoy family that he once was. Draco had been home for months but was still terrified to leave the grounds, and so it was up to me to lead this family back to the right path.

 

Lucius sat by in estranged silence while I began the daunting task of choosing someone suitable for my son to marry. I will not say that it was an easy thing to do, because it was not. I was more than aware of Draco’s inclinations, I had been for a very long time; but it did not stop me from pushing him in the direction of righteousness all the same.

 

The day I watched him marry Astoria, was the day I betrayed him for a third time, and I think that this was the greatest of them all.  I knew I was irrevocably damaging his life, more so than the fading black dark mark on his arm and all that it symbolized ever could. I wish I could justify my actions, but I know that I cannot. I told myself that I was doing what was right for Draco and ignoring how wrong it was. 

 

When he fled the manor and London all together, I knew I had brought this on myself. I had forced his hand a long time ago; it simply took him a while to grow strong enough to realize it for himself. 

 

The years I spent in the Manor with Astoria were some of the loneliest of my entire life. She was hardly the comforting type and as such, I was more often than not, left to my own devices. Lucius’ health was failing and I was drowning in guilt and despair and I would not be lying if I said that there were times when I felt like I could simply give up. 

 

Lucius was the love of my life and when he passed on I felt like he had taken half of me with him. Despite all of the heartache and trials that we had faced, we had come out still afloat and still intact as a family.

  
And now he was gone.

 

Draco brought Theodore to the funeral and I have never seen him as full of life as I did that day he walked back into the manor. The two of them looked like they had literally just come off of the beach and it nearly brought me to tears as they stood there, side by side in the library. It was as if everything had been erased and I was sitting there, gazing at a pair of nine-year-old boys who couldn’t stand to be separated. I hugged them both as often as I could because it was my way of apologizing for forking their road, even if nothing was ever said aloud.

 

Although I wished Draco would remain at the manor, I was hardly surprised when he once again walked out of my life and left London, his home, and his wife.

 

Life without Lucius was difficult and I often found myself glaringly alone. I had already begun the daunting task of repairing my relationship with my estranged sister Meda, and it was her presence and willingness to forgive that I have to thank for my sanity remaining intact during that time in my life.

 

By the time Draco returned home, so many years had passed that I had grown doubtful that I would ever see him again. I was overcome with joy to have my son back, but I also did not miss the sheer amount of strength it took him to take this step.

 

My son had finally and truly grown up.

 

Many purebloods will tell you that the details surrounding my grandson’s conception are considered unsuitable or abnormal; to which I will readily point out that most purebloods are unsuitable and at least slightly abnormal.

 

I was no longer the one steering Draco’s life, and as bittersweet as that was, I was proud of the man that had emerged despite the odds that had been stacked against him since birth. I was ready to stand by him and support his decisions because it was the one thing I could give him that I had never been able to before.

 

When Scorpius was born the Manor was once again alive and I could almost see the years of shadows and tarnish begin to melt away from the house I had called home for well over half of my life.  A new life that signaled a new beginning for all of us, and I was beside myself with pride and love.

 

Life with Scorpius was a far cry from life with Draco. Unlike his father, Scorpius had little use of rules and never made a habit of caring _too_ much what any of us thought of him. I loved my grandson from the second he came into this world and just like his father before him; there was nothing I would not do for him.  Sometimes it was difficult and I had to remind myself that he was not Draco—A bit too much of his mother in him at times I think.  I have never seen my son look so openly happy as I did the day I stood quietly by and watched him hold his own son with Theodore at his side.

 

As the years once again passed me by I watched Scorpius grow into the obstinate boy he would remain. I stood by as Astoria left the Manor for good and silently commended Draco for being so generous to her in the divorce. It wasn’t her fault that put her here after all, it was mine and I will not deny the lingering guilt that I felt even after she was gone.

 

Draco had always been the sun that shone on my entire world, and now Scorpius had that power as well. As he grew, his clever wit and sly behavior only solidified his place in this family and I vowed to learn from my mistakes with his father and do right by my grandson for as long as I was living.

 

I have it on good authority that Theodore never believed that I ingested that fever fudge Scorpius meant for me on a particular night when he was fifteen, but only pretended to for the sake of the boy that held the keys to all of our lives. Theodore, you know that I cannot answer you directly, but I imagine the faint smirk upon my lips will tell you all that you need to know.

 

Scorpius was seventeen years old when he disappeared into the world with Albus Potter and after all of the things I’ve seen in my life, I could safely say that nothing surprises me anymore. He was so much like the father he was running away from it was almost comical.

 

It was the following year when I asked Draco to take me out to the gardens. I was having more trouble getting around than I would care to admit, but I missed my garden and knew that it may very well be my last opportunity. 

 

There is no easy way to say that you are dying. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve lived several lifetimes, and now that all of my charges are finally able to stand on their own I think I would be all right with saying goodbye.

 

 

I asked Draco to sit with me, and it was with a shaking hand that I finally confessed all of the things to him that I had been to terrified to say to him for so many years. He had lived long enough under the pretense that he had somehow been a disappointment and I _needed_ him to know that he would always be my greatest achievement. We sat on that bench for a long time, and as the sun passed us by overhead, I told him the story of the day he was born and how his presence in my life changed me forever. It was his time to live now, to carry on this family like I always knew he could. I didn’t ask for his forgiveness but he gave it to me anyways because that is just the type of son that he is. No matter what the rest of the world thinks of my family, no one can deny that there was love here.

 

Love is not always pleasant and love hurts sometimes, but I will never regret it. Not even a moment of it.

 

 

I’m so very tired.

 

When I close my eyes a final time I am content in all that I have accomplished and the legacy that I leave behind. I miss my husband and I miss my sister and I know that they are waiting to take me home.

 

Draco and Theodore are kneeling at the side of my bed and I want to tell them not to shed too many tears for me, because too many tears have already been wasted in this life. Scorpius and Albus mirror them on the other side of the bed and if I had more time I would point out the glaring similarities between the four of them, but as it turns out, I am _finally_ out of time.

 

The last thing I feel is loved, and it is all that I have ever wanted…


End file.
